Damage
by V-San
Summary: Failure is what your mind makes of it; the smallest things can be the tipping point. Welcome to the worst-case scenario.


_Damage_

_I'm fine_.

She stops beside Squall and Zell, a trio of Geezards blocking their path and the transition from _relaxed wandering, taking in the sights_ to _spine straight, eyes forward, whip uncoiled ready to strike_ is beyond reflex. She already knows the first move in this dance deep in her muscles, in her bones, before her brain has time to catch up.

Her whip crack-snaps through the air, sleek and deadly, but the warning is too great; the malformed creature darts backwards from the blow and Quistis is thrown off balance. She stumbles to readjust her stance, the beast taking the opportunity to rush forward and respond in kind. It latches on and bites down on her shoulder for a good few seconds before Quistis thinks to butt it in the head with the handle of her whip until it lets go to rejoin the other two.

Her shoulder throbs miserably and she is certain she can feel something wet, doubtlessly blood, making a steady trail down from the wound, but all that registers is the smirk the creature wore as it let go. The face gives a sneering tone to the constant voice in her head nowadays-

(_weak pathetic disgrace failed instructor can't do anything right__**)**_

and the hot shame that rises in her belly overpowers any pain she feels until she can feel nothing but that all through her body.

"Quistis!"

_It's just a scratch._

A voice from across the battlefield is registered, dimly, and she turns towards where Squall and Zell are fighting the remainder of the Geezards with a casual ease that makes her feel sick with both humiliation and envy. Zell grins and tosses her a potion, reflexively caught; all she can see is Squall's fluid movements behind him and how the gleam in Zell's eyes is condescending, arrogant even

(_though she knows Zell doesn't have a truly mean bone in his body so maybe it's all in her-)_

and the blue in his gaze matches _exactly_ the shade of the potion he's just flung. She decides it must be a test before pocketing the bottle and moving forward to engage once again.

Her whip sings pain through the air for a second time, and for an instant there is fortune that she capitalizes on. It meets the Geezard's hide again, again, again, the arm wielding the weapon a blur. The burning that rises in her nerves and the blood being lost from her arm is desperately ignored, her focus fixed on the way Squall and Zell fight effortlessly beside her.

Even without looking, she knows their forms and movements are textbook perfect. Though she wishes she had the distinction of teaching them all they know, the claim is not hers to make. Those two have always been prime SeeD candidates, not just for their skill, but for their natural talent in their chosen fields. They have always been able to excel in combat.

It makes her wonder what the _point_ of it all was. Teaching them, honing their skills, taking hours out of her day to draw up plans and schedules and meetings and…

And it most likely did little more than speed up an already inevitable conclusion.

Now all she had to show for the effort of teaching them was a bright red stamp

**DISMISSED**

across her Teacher's Licence, while they moved onto bigger and better things and left her in the dust of her own dawning mediocrity.

_I can go on_.

The enemy before her still wouldn't fall. Blood spread across its hide from one or two deep hits she'd scored in the battle but that infuriating smile was still in place. It was starting to look like the smirk that had been tossed her way along with the potion bottle

(_and is that Geezard imitating Zell or is Zell imitating the Geezard or is_)

it was maddening.

Her breathing was growing more and more ragged, like some wild thing, with every snap of the whip that failed to wipe that grin out of existence. The taste of blood was on her lips

(_whose?_)

flooding her mouth and her brain as she tossed the useless weapon aside and dove

_(they're calling her name Squall and Zell confused and scared because they don't understand how far she can still fall)_

onto the creature. Abandoning any sense of fighting style for straight punches and clawing madly with her gloved hands because all that mattered was getting that **damn** grin off of it-

Limbs pull her back, away from the monster corpse on the grass. She's screaming, something wordless and heavy, fighting to make her way back forward. Even though it's not moving, she can still see that smile. Even though it's dead, she has to kill it.

_I'll be okay._

There's a weight on top of her, pinning her down onto the grass and attempting to dampen her struggles into something more manageable. There's a way to break free of this, he knows it, studied it for years. Text after text after class after class after exam of the correct ways to break from almost any hold or pinned position and all she can do is scrabble in the dirt as Squall Leonhart effortlessly holds her down.

Her mind flounders along with her hands for what feels like hours as her rage ebbs down, her body gradually ceasing its thrashing against the one above her. The sky above seems far too big to comprehend as she fixes her stare to it, aware of the eyes of her companions pinned upon her.

She's crying.

"Inst-I mean, Quistis?"

Zell's voice is subtly wrong, like there's too much meaning behind a hollow question. Her eyes break from the sky and meet his potion-blue ones; the emotions in them are no longer readable.

_(Something's broken)_

"Something's broken," she whispers. Squall's head turns towards hers from where he lays across her torso. His gaze searching, perhaps.

"What?"

She can't register who asks the question. The voice could be anyone's, Squall's, Zell's, her own, the dead Geezard's.

An arm is loose enough to bring to her eyes, she covers them, taking comfort in blacking out the complication of the sky.

_(Something's broken)_

"Something's broken."

_Don't worry about it._

* * *

_AN. This is just a short little piece that has two purposes: to hopefully get me back into writing fic on a more frequent basis, and to let me test out some of the things I've picked up at uni in regards to my style and in structure._

_I enjoy getting into the minds and actions of people who aren't all sugar and rainbows, people who have issues I can bring to the surface, hence this view on Quistis. Despite the game's lack of focus on it, I really think that she had the potential to go a little crazy due to half the crap piled on her at the beginning of the game - it's like her own little humillianton conga going on over there._

_Thoughts, reviews and such are all welcome, especially if you're a QT fan like I am^^  
Hope you liked it~_


End file.
